Star Wars: Harry Potter and the Kaiburr Crystal
by Philip S
Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a young boy called Harry Potter learns of his destiny to become a Jedi and learn the secrets of the Force. At the Coruscant Jedi Academy he will finds friends and enemies, as he learns the mysteries of the force and has to contend with the looking threat of Voldemor, Dark Lord of the Sith.
1. Prelude

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, all things Star Wars belong to Disney. Many thanks to DianeCastle, whose wonderful stories "League of Extraordinary Women" and "Secret Return of Alex Mack" inspired this tale.

* * *

Prelude: Ten years ago

It had often been said that, should there actually be a bright, shining center to the universe, than the planet Tatooine was as far away from it as you could possibly get. Located in a binary star system in the outer rim territories of the galaxy, it was an unforgiving frontier world, populated by the desperate, the hopeless, and the criminal. While formally part of the great Galactic Republic, it was in actuality ruled by whomever had the most blasters in his employ. That being the Hutts, interplanetary crime lords.

That was not to say that there were no honest folks about on this world. Granted, most of these had either gotten stuck here through some misfortune or other, or had been born here never to escape, but they did try to make a somewhat honest living from the soil. Given Tatooine's extremely arid climate, most of them were moisture farmers, using evaporators to draw what little moisture there was from the air and using it to cultivate a meager amount of farmland.

It was early in the evening when one such farmstead, a good distance away from even the closest place deserving of the name settlement, got unannounced visitors. A sleek and dangerous-looking space craft descended from the sky on silenced repulsor engines, its silver hull gleaming in the final embers of twilight. Ships as elegant as this one were rarely seen this far out from the more populated center of the galaxy. Use of an advanced cloaking device during approach of the planet had made sure that it would remain so.

The craft gently settled on its extended landing struts some distance away from the quiet farmstead and as the engines powered down, a landing ramp descended from the silvery hull. A moment later three silhouettes could be made out against the light from inside the ship, slowly descending onto the sandy surface of Tatooine.

The first to step out was a tall, human man in brown robes, his imposing figure only slightly bent with advanced age, who took a moment to carefully inspect his surroundings. He briefly closed his eyes, his wrinkled face tight with concentration, before he relaxed again. Moving his hand away from his belt, where a silver cylinder was attached, he turned to face his two companions.

"I can sense no unwanted company. No one has seen us approach."

The human woman, regal and stern-looking, walked up to stand beside him, her gaze fixed on the farm buildings in the distance. She, too, wore brown robes and had a silver cylinder dangling from her belt, but unlike her male companion she looked neither serene nor comfortable.

"I still think you are making a mistake, Master Dore. This is no place for a child."

The man, addressed as Master Dore, turned to face her with the air of someone tired of rehashing the same old argument over and over again.

"I know, Master Gell," he replied to her, "but the High Council has decided to follow my recommendation of placing the boy with his closest living relatives, which I believe to be the best course of action."

Master Gell shook her head. "You know of their opinions regarding the Order and the war. The resentment they hold over Lilly's decision. I greatly fear they will project their resentment onto the boy and even if they don't, they will certainly not be willing to teach him about his heritage."

Master Dore nodded. "You are probably right, but that doesn't change the fact that this is our best option. The war is not yet over, Ma-Gon, and there are few safe places to the found. No one will look for him here."

He turned to look at the third member of their party, still standing on the ramp some distance away, leaving them to their argument. Nearly half again as tall as Master Dunn-Bel Dore, the figure was rather unmistakable as a member of the Wookie race. Covered in dark brown fur from head to toe, the massive shaggy giant was a fearsome sight to behold. Which made the gentle care with which he cradled the small human infant in his giant arms all the more remarkable a sight.

"I hope young Harry has weathered the journey well, Hagricca?" he asked.

Hagricca took that as his cue to approach the pair, moving slowly so as not to jostle his precious cargo. Most Wookies were incapable of speaking Basic, the galactic trading language, as their vocal apparatuses simply weren't designed for it. A small percentage of them, however, carried a hereditary birth defect that caused a speech impediment much like a severe stutter in humans. By some strange twist of fate, however, that same impediment actually enabled them to speak Basic. Not well, but good enough to be understood by those who didn't bother learning any of the Wookie dialects or didn't have a translator droid handy.

"The pub never once stirred, Master Dore," Hagricca grumbled. "Still seems very tired."

"Well, there are some rather dark, tiresome days behind him," Dore replied, his voice somber. "Let us hope more happy days lie before him."

Master Gell merely snorted at that, but refrained from further argument as they walked the distance to the farmstead and approached the main habitation module. Tatooine architecture took the severe sandstorms that were a regular occurrence here into account, meaning most buildings resembled small hills or sand dunes. All three of them noticed the presence of proximity sensors around the edge of the property, but took no steps to avoid triggering them. They weren't here as thieves or attackers, after all.

There were about ten meters away from the entrance door when it opened, revealing a worn-looking human man with a large rifle in his hands. It was pointed at them, but they weren't really that concerned. On the off chance that this antique weapon might actually fire, all three of them were more than capable of defending themselves.

"Who are you?" the man shouted. "This is my land."

Master Dore slowly walked towards him, empty hands outspread, making no aggressive move.

"We are sorry for the late hour, Mister Larsley, but I can assure you we mean you no harm, nor do we have any designs on your property."

Larsley didn't lower his weapon until Master Dore came close enough to be illuminated by the light from within the building. Seeing the robes he wore, not to mention the silver cylinder hanging from his belt, Larsley finally put the rifle down. The look on his face became even less welcoming, though.

"Your kind isn't welcome here," he growled. "You have already taken enough from us!"

"I am well aware of the... unfortunate history you have with the Order of the Jedi, Mister Larsley," Dore said, stopping in front of him. "There have been recent developments, though, of which you need to be aware. Also, I'm afraid I come bearing sad news."

A woman appeared behind Larsley, looking out at him, and if anything she looked even more hostile than the man beside her.

"You," she hissed, her eyes narrowing.

"It has been a while, Perin," Dore simply said, his face carefully neutral.

"Not long enough! So what brings you here in the middle of the night, Jedi!?" She spat the last word like a curse. "What news could possibly..."

She trailed off, possibly recognizing the somber look in his eyes, or maybe just experiencing a burst of intuition.

"So it finally happened then, right?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "You finally managed to get her killed after all, is that it?"

Master Dore let the turmoil of emotions Perin experienced wash over him. There was anger there, just short of outright hatred, tasting like ashes, but also great sadness and regret for past words and deeds that now could never be mitigated again.

"Lilly and James died four days ago, yes," Dore said, looking down. "My deepest condolences for the loss of your sister and your brother-in-law."

Perin looked away from him, taking a moment to regain her composure. All through the confrontation Larsley hadn't stopped glaring at him.

"Well, thank you for taking the time to personally deliver the news then," he said, not sounding grateful in the slightest. "I assume this concludes your business here then?"

"Not quite, no," Dore replied, causing Perin too look at him once more. "There is one more thing."

He motioned for Hagricca to step forward. The Larsleys briefly started, a common reaction to the sight of a Wookie, but then their eyes were caught by the sleeping infant in his arms.

"I wish you could have met him under happier circumstances," Master Dore said. "Perin, this is your nephew: Harry James Potter."

For a long moment no one spoke, a heavy silence having settled over the assembled group of people. Finally Perin and her husband shared a long look, causing Larsley to finally step aside.

"I guess you better come in then."

* * *

A long time ago in a galaxy far,  
far away…

STAR WARS

EPISODE I: HARRY POTTER AND THE KAIBURR CRYSTAL

IT IS A PERIOD OF RECOVERY. TEN YEARS HAVE PASSED  
SINCE THE END OF THE WAR WHERE THE EVIL SITH AND  
THEIR ARMIES NEARLY BROUGHT THE GALACTIC REPUBLIC  
TO ITS KNEES.

WHILE PEOPLE ACROSS SPACE CELEBRATE THE ANNIVERSARY  
OF PEACE, ANTICIPATION BUILDS FOR THE REEMERGENCE OF  
THE FAMOUS JEDI-BORN, HARRY POTTER, WHO IS SAID TO HAVE  
PERSONALLY DEFEATED VOLDEMORT, THE DARK LORD OF THE SITH,  
EVEN THOUGH HE WAS BUT A SMALL CHILD AT THE TIME.

NO ONE HAS SEEN HARRY POTTER SINCE THAT DAY, BUT NOW  
AT AGE ELEVEN HE IS EXPECTED TO COME TO CORUSCANT AND  
BEGIN HIS TRAINING AS A JEDI, JUST LIKE HIS PARENTS BEFORE HIM.

IN THE SHADOWS, THOUGH, RUMORS ABOUND THAT THE DARK LORD  
VOLDEMORT HAS NOT REALLY BEEN KILLED, BUT INSTEAD MAKES  
PREPARATIONS FOR HIS RETURN TO POWER AND THIRSTS FOR  
REVENGE AGAINST THE CHILD WHO BESTED HIM A DECADE AGO.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

 _Anchorhead, Planet Tatooine, the present_

Owen Larsley was a man most people would describe with one of the following words: harsh, worn, embittered, tough as durasteel and just as stubborn. Only very few people remembered that he had once been a rather upbeat, optimistic, and friendly young man, or as much so as anyone on this harsh planet ever was. Things had changed, though, and even fewer people knew why. They only knew that it took but the slightest prompting to get him started on a long rant about the evils of the Republic, the gross mishandling of the Clone War and its aftermath, and, of course, the despicable Order of the Jedi.

Leaving the supply shop after having settled his bill, he blinked in the harsh light of the twin suns and walked over to his beat-up old transport speeder, where Perin and young Harry were waiting for him. All the supplies they had bought were already loaded and Owen knew that Harry had done most of the heavy lifting. People marveled at how strong the young lad was, considering that he was only eleven years old and looked rather scrawny.

Of course Owen knew precisely why Harry had such a relatively easy time lifting things and it worried him greatly.

"Ready to go?" he asked, putting on his sun goggles.

"Sure, uncle Owen," Harry said sourly, not meeting his eyes, his arms crossed in front of his chest. It seemed that this morning's argument was not yet forgotten. Hardly surprising, given that it had been far from the first time they had argued about that particular topic. Perin merely gave him an exasperated look about the boy's behavior. They were rather used to it by now, sadly.

Climbing into the speeder, Owen prepared himself for a journey spent in icy silence, so he was rather surprised when Harry started talking again.

"Biggs' parents are sending him to the academy in two months," Harry said, doing his best to sound like it was as innocent a topic as the weather (hardly an exciting topic on Tatooine, where the weather hardly ever changed). "He's already started packing his stuff."

Suppressing a groan, Owen prepared himself for yet another story about how one of Harry's friends was all set to go off to the Republic's Space Force Academy, the preferred method for young people to get away from backwater worlds like this one. Given the massive losses of the war and the subsequent outlawing of both droid and clone armies, the Republic military had a never-ending need of fresh blood and was willing to get it from all over space, very few questions asked. When Owen had been a young man the minimum age for enrollment had been 17 for humans. These days it was 10. In his opinion, whoever had passed that law that allowed children to be drilled into mindless killer drones deserved to be fed to the Sarlacc.

"I'm sure he'll do great there," Harry continued, looking out the window at the dunes they sped past. "He's already a great pilot. During our last race through Beggar's Canyon we were neck to neck. He nearly beat me."

Owen looked over at him, eyes narrowing with anger. "Didn't I tell you stop those reckless races, Harry? Great Maker, one of these days I'm gonna get a call that there is nothing left of my nephew but a dark spot on the damp side of a canyon wall."

Harry gulped, righteous anger evaporating at having been caught. "I... ah, that was before you told me to stop, uncle Owen. Our last race before that, I mean. I..."

"Quit while you're ahead boy!" Owen growled. "And I don't care what Biggs' family is doing or how many of your other friends are heading out to throw away their lives for whatever mess the politicians are gonna cause next. You're gonna stay right here and help with the harvest. It's an honest living, boy, all anyone could ask for!"

Harry huffed and looked down, curling in on himself in a full-body pout.

"Mom certainly didn't think so," he muttered. Not quite quietly enough, though.

Owen opened his mouth to give a sharp retort, but his wife was quicker. He really should have excpected that, given how sensitive she still was to any mention of her sister. Perin got into Harry's face with a look that would make any sane man duck for cover as fast as possible.

"Well, maybe we should ask your mom about that, Harry, don't you think? Oh, wait, we can't. And you know why? Because she is dead, Harry! Lilly died, far away from her home and her family, because she was so desperate to get out of here that she willingly followed that old..."

Owen put a hand on her shoulder. "Perin," he simply said, willing her to stop before she told the boy more about his parents and their all too short lives than they wanted him to hear.

Stopping to regain her calm, Perin drew back from the frightened boy. "I'm sorry, Harry, but please don't talk about things you know nothing about. Lilly... Lilly was never happy living here on Tatooine, it was never going to be enough for her. Something you have in common with her, we know that. We just... we don't want you to make the same mistakes she did, Harry."

Harry nodded, obviously still off balance after his aunt's outburst. Owen and Perin had told him only very little about his parents. Not that they really knew much about them, either, to be honest. Lilly had left Tatooine behind without ever looking back, only returning that one time years later, a time Owen really did not want to think about. She had never even told her own sister that she was married, nor that she was pregnant. They had told the boy that his parents had died in the war, which was true. There was no need for him to know about the exact circumstances.

"Harry," Owen said, having calmed down himself, "we know that we can't force you to stay here forever. Nor do we intend to. But we do intend to stop you from running towards an early death with open arms just because you hate it here. Take your time. Grow up. And don't make your decisions based on what your friends think is the best."

Harry didn't reply, just turned his head away and looked at the dunes. Owen sighed. He could only hope that they had gotten through to the boy at least a little bit.

* * *

Once they were home and had unloaded the supplies, Harry was quick to retreat into his room and slammed the door behind him. Several of the starship models he had built wobbled dangerously on their shelves and one, the T-16 Skyhopper model he had only completed last week, actually slid off. Calling himself an idiot, Harry quickly reached out to catch the model ship, even though he knew he was too far away to do so before it would hit the floor and shatter into dozens of pieces.

It never did, though. It stopped in mid-air.

"What in the name of...," Harry began, only to start as the model resumed its fall. Thankfully it was much closer to the ground now, so only a small piece broke off. Quickly walking over, Harry picked it up and inspected the damage. Nothing too bad, he could easily fix that. But how had he...?

Sitting down, he closed his eyes. This wasn't the first time strange things had happened around him, he knew that. Over the last two years or so he had found lifting the crates and other equipment around the farmstead to be far, far easier than before. Sure, he was growing, but he was aware that he was lifting stuff that should be too heavy for him. It always felt like someone... or something... was sharing the load with him.

Then there was that time when he told uncle Owen about the broken motivator in that astromech droid they were about to buy... roughly thirty seconds before said motivator blew out and disabled the droid. A number of other strange things had happened on and off these past few years, but today was the first time he had actually... well, whatever it was he had done to make that model stop in mid-air.

Sighing, he stood up and looked at himself in the wall mirror. Upon initial inspection he didn't look any different than any of the other human boys living in these parts. The twin suns had given him a near-permanent tan, but his unruly dark hair successfully resisted being bleached out by the constant glare. Brushing the locks away from his forehead, he once again studied the scar he had carried there for as long as he could remember. According to his own aunt and uncle he had already had it when they had taken him in. It looked kind of like a burn, but not really. They suspected he had got it in the same incident that had cost his parents their lives, but they didn't know for sure. Or if they did, they weren't telling him.

He wasn't sure how he knew, but he was certain that his aunt and uncle were keeping secrets from him regarding his parents. Whenever they talked about them, he got the distinct feeling that they were... well, not lying, but keeping something back. That was another strange thing, Harry reminded himself. He could almost always tell when someone was lying to him.

Sighing, he let himself fall backwards onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He hated it here. Oh, he was aware – in his honest moments, at least – that his aunt and uncle were not monsters who kept him here out of spite or anything. They made a good living on Tatooine and while he doubted either of them was really, truly happy, they were at least content. But Harry still hated this place. He hated the sand, he hated the constant glare of the suns, and he hated that the rest of the universe seemed to be so, so far away.

Really, what did Tatooine have to offer to someone who didn't want to be a moisture farmer or a thug in service to the Hutts? Nothing, that's what. And as pompous as it might sound, Harry wanted more out of life. He didn't know exactly what, but he was very certain he wouldn't find it here on Tatooine.

"Six more years," he muttered. At 17 he would be of legal age and could go wherever he wanted, do whatever he wanted. His aunt and uncle would have no more say. But to a boy of eleven, six years might as well have been an eternity.

He suddenly looked up, eyes darting around. Had he heard something? No, it hadn't been a sound. Something else. He wasn't sure what, he couldn't describe it, but something had definitely... pinged, he finally decided for lack of a better word. Some unknown sensation he had never felt before. And it came from... from somewhere outside.

Getting up from his bed, he quickly walked outside and looked around the farmstead. The suns were slowly sinking below the horizon in the distance, turning the entire desert around him a deep, sated red. Oftentimes he could be found outside at this time, enjoying the fading of the day's heat, waiting for the stars to come out, dreaming of great adventures to be had in that vast expanse overhead. Not today, though. Today his eyes scanned the horizon, looking for the source of that strange sensation.

He finally spotted a figure outlined against the reddish sky, approaching the farmstead from the open desert. It was slowly coming closer, revealing a humanoid shape dressed in robes. The air shimmered around it, making details hard to spot, but Harry couldn't take his eyes away. Something about the figure was causing his nerves to tingle, almost as if a low-level current was running over his skin. There was something incredibly familiar there.

"Harry Potter?" the figure suddenly asked, making Harry realize it was already much closer than he had thought. It was a female voice and he couldn't help but feel that he might have heard it before somewhere.

"Eh... yes?"

The figure flipped back its hood. It was a human woman, grey-haired, and looking positively ancient to his young eyes. She regarded him with a gaze that was equal parts stern and warm, though he had no idea how she managed that mixture.

"My name is Ma-Gon Gell. We have met before, but I don't believe you will remember. You were very young back then."

"I... ah... well, then. Eh... welcome. What are you..."

His doomed attempt at forming complete sentences was cut off sharply by a commotion from behind him.

"You," his uncle yelled, running out of the main building with his aunt hot on his heels. "What are you doing here again?"

Again, Harry mused. He had been living here all his life but he couldn't remember this strange woman ever coming around before. Then again, seeing how ancient she was, she could easily have been here long before he was born. A moment later he started as Gell turned to look at him, raising her brow. Almost as if... had she... nah, she couldn't possible have... right?

"As warm a welcome as last time, I see," Gell addressed Owen.

"Warm welcomes are reserved for decent people," Perin hissed. "Not for the likes of you."

Harry looked back and forth between them. "You... know each other then?"

All three adults looked at him and he fought the urge to run back to his room. Something in Gell's gaze drew him in, though, and a moment later there was something like... like someone was touching the inside of his head in a certain place. What was...

The sand before his feet erupted suddenly as if some invisible beast surged away from him, heading directly towards Gell, and hitting her with enough force to make her stumble back a few steps. Owen flinched, raising his rifle, but having no idea where to point it. Perin looked scared and took several steps back. Gell, however, just... nodded?

"I am sorry for this," she simply said as if nothing extraordinary had just happened. "Not that there was really any doubt, but I wanted to be one hundred percent certain."

"What just happened here?" Harry yelled, very much freaked. "What was that? Why did it feel like..."

"Like an invisible finger poked into your head?" Gell asked him, the slightest hint of a smile on her lips.

"Uh... yeah, that!"

Perin shook her head, her eyes wet with barely held back tears. "No! No, not again!"

"I hoped I was wrong," Owen just said, eyes downcast, looking defeated.

"Will somebody please tell me what's going on here?" Harry yelled.

Gell walked forward and put her hand on his shoulder. "It's quite simple, Harry. It was a tests to determine if you are a Force-sensitive. A non-sensitive would not even have felt my touch, but in you, it triggered a reflex. You used the Force to push me away."

"The... the Force?" Harry stammered, not understanding.

"Yes, Harry. You have been born with the ability to sense and use the Force. Which means that, just like your parents, will become a Jedi."

Harry just stared at her, still uncomprehending, which caused Gell to turn her gaze towards his aunt and uncle with a sigh.

"You really haven't told him about any of this, have you?"

End Chapter 1


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

 _Larsley Farmstead, Planet Tatooine_

"So... my parents were Jedi?" Harry asked.

Ma-Gon Gell nodded from where she sat across the table. Harry's aunt and uncle sat flanking him, obviously not happy to have this strange woman inside their home, but having surrendered to the inevitable once it became clear that Harry wanted to know more about their visitor and the strange abilities he had shown.

"Yes, Harry, they were. Among the most highly respected members of the Order, actually."

"And... you are a Jedi, too?"

Gell simply nodded.

Harry's thoughts were racing. Even out here on the frontier everyone knew about the Jedi. Well, they knew that they existed, that was. Some kind of organization of very powerful warrior-mystics who had supposedly protected the Republic for over a thousand generations. They had also been instrumental in the Clone Wars, according to his history class. Of course if one were to ask his uncle and several of his friends, then the Jedi were actually a fascist sect of religious nuts who had shown their true colors during the war and thought nothing of sacrificing countless innocents for their vision of the greater good.

"And... I am one, too?"

Gell shook her head at this, giving him an indulgent smile. "No, Harry, you are not. But you will be, once you have gone through the appropriate training. That is why I am here. You are now of the age where young Force-sensitives begin their studies at the Jedi Praxeum."

"You are not taking him," his aunt Perin hissed. "It's bad enough your lot took Lilly away from her home and filled her head with all this nonsense!"

Gell gave Perin a chilling glare. "Nonsense, Perin? I would hardly call allowing Lilly to reach her full potential and becoming part of a society dedicated to peace and the protection of innocents to be nonsense."

"Peace, yes?" uncle Owen interjected. "Well, you really pulled that one off nicely. How long did the Clone Wars rage? How many of those innocents you are so keen on protecting died on your watch?"

A sad look came over Gell's face. "The war cost us all dearly, Mr. Larsley, there is no denying that. I won't say that the Jedi Order did not make its share of mistakes. But I would like to remind you that it was the Jedi who ended the war as well."

Harry thought back to his history class. They hadn't covered the Clone Wars extensively. Given the small size of the class and the lack of qualified teachers on Tatooine, it was a minor miracle they had covered them at all, actually. Harry only knew that they had started as a war of secession, with a large number of star systems wishing to break away from the Republic. After many years of bitter fighting, though, it had turned out that the entire war had been orchestrated by the Republic's own High Chancellor Palpatine, who was actually a guy called Voldemort, a Dark Lord of the Sith (though Harry had no idea who the Sith were or why their lords were dark).

Anyway, after the revelation that the entire war had been a scam from day one, Voldemort took control of the vast clone armies created for the fighting and sought to overthrow the galaxy by force. He had nearly succeeded, too, but had eventually been killed by a group of Jedi. The clone armies had been decommissioned, the Republic reunited, and the Jedi had restored order. It all sounded very neat and straight-forward in the history books.

"How did my parents die?" Harry asked suddenly.

All three adults gave him surprised looks.

"Well, there you go," Perin said, glaring at Gell now. "You Jedi pride yourself on your goodness and honesty, don't you? Tell my nephew how you managed to get my sister, his mother killed! Maybe you are willing to tell him more than you did us. So go ahead, Master Jedi, we are all ears!"

Harry was taken aback by the bitterness in his aunt's voice. Even at age eleven he was quite observant enough to realize that his aunt had never really dealt with his mother's death. He had no idea what exactly had transpired between the two sisters, but it couldn't have been pretty. Still, it didn't change the fact that he wanted... no, needed to know.

Gell gave Perin a disappointed look, then turned her gaze to Harry.

"Well, I guess you deserve to know, Harry. I would have preferred to tell you about your parents under... calmer circumstances. The truth is, your parents were instrumental in the discovery of High Chancellor Palpatine's plans and revealed him to be Lord Voldemort. They saved countless lives this way, Harry, but sadly this made them a target for the Sith's revenge. At the time your mother was already pregnant with you, Harry, so the decision was made for them to hide themselves away until you were born and old enough. It was a secret base on a far-off planet. We... we all thought they would be safe there."

"What happened?" Harry asked, causing Gell to sigh deeply.

"A young Jedi called Sirius Black, who was a pupil of mine and your father's best friend for many years, turned to evil. He betrayed their location to Lord Voldemort. Intent upon revenge, Voldemort went after them by himself. And... well, I fear we don't know exactly what happened then, Harry. Having learned of Black's treachery, Master Dunn-Bel Dore and me, along with a large group of other Jedi, arrived at the scene, but we were too late. Both your parents were dead. There was no trace of Lord Voldemort, but we found you. Unhurt, except for that scar on your forehead."

Harry looked down, trying to digest the information he had gotten. It wasn't really all that much more than he had already known. His parents had been killed in the war. The fact that they had been Jedi instead of soldiers or innocent civilians didn't really make that much of a difference, did it? But he did know who had killed them now.

"And what about Voldemort?" he asked, his voice tinged with anger.

Gell's eyes narrowed, looking slightly worried at the anger in his voice, but continued on nevertheless. "He has not been seen since that day. Many believe that he was killed. In fact, in the core worlds the currently accepted version of events is that you, Harry, somehow managed to destroy him even as he tried to kill you."

Harry's eyes nearly bugged out. "Me? What kind of... I was, what? Not even a year old at the time, right? How should I have...?"

"Calm down, Harry," Gell said. "People were so relieved that Voldemort had seemingly perished, so desperate to believe that he was well and truly dead, that they fashioned a somewhat romanticized version of events, I fear. Master Dore and I believe that it was in fact something your parents did. Your mother was... she was found right in front of your crib, Harry, and right next to her we found Lord Voldemort's light sabre."

Turning her gaze toward Harry's aunt, Gell continued. "Think of your sister what you may, Perin, but she sacrificed her life protecting her son and helped rid the universe of one of the greatest evils there has ever been. For this, at least, you should be proud of her."

Perin glared at her, but finally lowered her eyes.

"You're still not taking Harry," Owen said. "I won't have him join the military this young and I certainly won't give him to your freakish cult, either."

Harry started to say something, but Owen cut him off. "This discussion is over, boy! You can do whatever you want once you're of age, but until that day we are responsible for your safety and I won't send you off with the same people who got your mother killed, no matter how noble they make her death sound."

Gell shook her head. "I was hoping you would be more reasonable about this, Mr. Larsley. Anyway, I fear you are laboring under a misconception. Harry has been positively identified as a Force-sensitive and by Republic law, all Force-sensitives must be trained in their abilities. That is non-negotiable."

If looks could have killed, Gell would have been dead on the spot due to the twin glares of Harry's uncle and aunt.

"You can't force children to join your miserable cult!"

"You misunderstand me. No one will be forcing Harry to become a Jedi if he doesn't want to. But he still needs to be trained. Untrained Force-sensitives are a danger to themselves and others. Unless I am very much mistaken, Harry has already begun using his abilities in small ways, has he not? They will not just go away. They will grow stronger. Unless someone teaches him how to properly use them, there is no telling what might happen."

Gell stood from the table. "I am certain you have a lot to talk about, so I will leave you to it. But whatever you decide, Harry will come to Coruscant to train at the Praxeum. We shall be leaving in two days at the latest."

Walking out, the Jedi woman left a thunderous silence in her wake.

* * *

 _Mos Eisley Spaceport, Planet Tatooine, two days later_

Master Ma-Gon Gell was starting to get slightly worried. Two days had passed since she had left the Larsley farm and she had heard nothing from the family since. She had left them a message where her space ship was moored, hoping that they would see reason and bring young Harry here in a civilized manner, including a proper farewell. She really didn't want to travel to the farm and take Harry by force, no matter that the law allowed her to do exactly that. It would be the worst possible way to introduce Harry to his heritage and destiny she could imagine.

Truth to tell, she had underestimated the amount of resentment she would face. Oh, she hadn't expected an amicable greeting, far from it. She had not expected Perin to still be so torn up about her sister ten years later, though. The poor woman hadn't dealt with the loss much at all, it seemed, and her husband's general resentment of the Republic and the Jedi only enabled her grief.

"Still no word?"

Gell turned around at the growls behind her, looking at her companion on this trip. Hagricca had been with her ten years ago when they had brought young Harry here and he had been adamant about going along on the return trip, too. It was not common knowledge, but Gell knew that Hagricca had owed a life debt to Harry's father James. The Wookie had nearly committed suicide over the fact that he hadn't been there to protect James and his family from Voldemort. The fact that Harry survived was probably the only thing that had kept him going. The Wookie would have liked nothing better than to take care of Harry himself, but no one had considered that a particularly good idea. Hagricca was the most loyal companion anyone could ask for, but him taking care of a fragile human child? That was the stuff of nightmares.

"I'm afraid not, my friend," she replied. "We shall give them another two hours, then..."

Her voice trailed off as she felt a presence at the edge of her awareness. Well now, it seemed that the Larsleys weren't entirely without reason after all.

"They're coming," she informed her friend, who broke out into a broad grin. Hagricca had wanted to accompany her on her first visit two days ago, but she was glad she had talked him out of it. It was bad enough she had had to issue an ultimatum in the first place, doing so with a massive, powerful Wookie looming over her shoulder would have just increased the level of tension.

"What a piece of junk!"

That was the first thing Harry said as he entered the hangar, followed by his very sour-looking aunt and uncle. Gell smiled. The YT-1300 light freighter they were using as their transport this time around was certainly far from a looker, but it was the perfect ship for not calling attention to oneself. Transport pilots and smugglers all over the galaxy used this particular model, so blending in with the traffic at any given space port in the galaxy was easy.

"I assure you she only looks the part, young Harry," Gell said, walking towards them. "The _Stellar Envoy_ is one of the most reliable ships in use by the Order. She will get us to Coruscant quickly and safely."

Perin grumbled something unintelligible at that. Owen Larsley just walked straight towards her, a clothing bag slung over his shoulder, and got into the Jedi's face.

"It seems you are correct, Jedi," he simply said, throwing her the back with enough force that she would have been knocked over if she hadn't braced for it. "I made some inquires and it seems the law is indeed on your side. We have no choice but to send Harry with you to be trained. So here he is, as mandated by law."

"It truly is for the best, Mr. Larsley," Gell said, putting the clothing bag down. "I assure you, Harry will receive the kind of education Tatooine could never give him."

"I am sure he will," Larsley replied. "Two things, however, Master Jedi. I studied the relevant laws very carefully. One, under no circumstances will Harry join your Order without our consent or until he is of age. No trials, no oaths, nothing. He is simply going with you for training, that's it."

"Quite understood, Mr. Larsley. And two?"

"Two, there is no law requiring him to stay on Coruscant permanently during the training. I realize that the distance between Tatooine and Coruscant makes it impractical to return him home every day after lessons, but I expect you to bring him back here for Winter Fete and any other breaks in training that last more than three days. Are we clear?"

Gell simply nodded, there were quite a few Jedi students who regularly returned to their parents for breaks. There had been a time in the Order's past when Force-sensitive children had been taken from their parents for good and lived in the Praxeum permanently until they became Jedi, but thankfully those days were long past.

"I see no problem with that, Mr. Larsley. I will inform you of the relevant holidays and breaks once the training semester starts. Will there be anything else?"

Perin came up to stand beside her husband, looking Gell straight in the eyes. "You keep Harry safe, or I will kill you myself!"

Gell straightened. "The safety of our students is paramount, Perin. I do not need threats to remind me of my duties."

"Just don't forget it!"

Gell turned back and walked toward the ship, taking Harry's bag with her, leaving the boy to say goodbye to his aunt and uncle in private. She could see Hagricca was chomping at the bit to greet the young pub, but she quietly gestured for him to save it until after take-off.

With a look of uncertainty on his face, Harry finally separated from his aunt and uncle and walked up the ramp of the ship, leaving Tatooine behind for a greater destiny. Gell gave him an encouraging smile, even as the ramp closed behind them and the freighters mighty engines began to power up.

End Chapter 2.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

 _Jedi Starship Stellar Envoy, en route to Coruscant_

"So... what happens now?" Harry asked.

To be honest, he was rather worried right now. In the span of two days his life had changed completely. For a long time he had dreamed of just packing up and leaving Tatooine behind, heading out into the universe for great adventures. Now exactly that had happened. He was on a space ship speeding away from his home at hyper speed, about to enroll in a school where the future guardians and protectors of the galaxy were taught. It all sounded so grand, so exciting.

He was terrified.

Master Gell, apparently sensing his unease, sat down beside him, radiating an aura of calm and peace he could feel all the way down to his bones. He was still fidgeting nervously, but the danger of fidgeting right out of his chair and landing butt-first on the floor seemed to have passed.

"I know you must be nervous, Harry, but there is no need for that. I know your aunt and uncle have not exactly painted a pretty picture of us, but we are really not that bad. As for what happens next, we will soon land on Coruscant and you will see the Jedi Praxeum, the place where both your parents learned the way of the Force."

"You mentioned this before. What exactly is this... Force?"

"Well, the Force is what gives a Jedi their power. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together."

She put her hand on his arm and a warm feeling spread through him. "You can feel it already, can't you? You have been instinctively using the Force a number of times before, even though you have not known what it is."

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the feeling. It was as if a low level current was running from Master Gell's hand into his arm, making his skin tingle.

"Do you see that hydro spanner over there?" Gell asked, causing him to open his eyes and look at the tool in question. "Bring it over here."

He didn't understand what that had to do with the topic of their conversation, but he still began to rise to his feet. Gell stopped him halfway, though. "Not like that, Harry. Use the Force!"

He gave her a confused look, but she just returned an encouraging smile. Sighing, he sat back down and tried to concentrate on that feeling from just two days ago when he had stopped his model ship from crashing to the ground. There was energy in the air, he could sense it. And it flowed... everywhere. It ran between him and Master Gell, between him and the other being he could sense in the cockpit of the ship, even between him and the ship itself. And... there, there was the hydro spanner. He could see it with his eyes, but also sense it with... something else.

Before his amazed gaze, the hydro spanner began to wobble slightly where it rested on the table. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he tried to pull on the energy connecting him and the tool, trying to reel it in. It wobbled some more, slid forward about half an inch...

Harry gasped, feeling utterly exhausted. It was hard, so incredibly hard. He felt like he had run the entire distance between the farm stead and Anchorhead at midday. And for all that the tool had barely moved at all.

"I'm sorry, I really tried..., " he began, dreading that she would take him right back to Tatooine after such a sorry display.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Harry. That was quite excellent for someone with no training." She could apparently see the disbelief in his eyes quite clearly. "Like all skills, mastery of the Force is not accomplished in an afternoon, young Harry. I was quite a few years older than you before I could do this."

She gestured, not even looking, and the tool rose from the table and floated over to them, as light as a feather. It occurred to Harry that this was actually the first time he had seen someone else use this... Force, as it was called. And it was amazing.

"And I will be able to do this, too?" he asked, full of wonder.

"That and much more, Harry," Gell replied, setting the tool back down. "But be patient."

He leaned back, huffing. Patience had never been his strong suite, he knew.

"Now I intend to get some rest," Gell said, rising from her seat and stretching. "We're still at least ten hours out from Coruscant and I am not as young as I used to be."

Apparently guessing that he was much too wired to rest, she gestured toward the corridor that led to the cockpit. "Maybe you would like to spend the time chatting with our pilot? He has been anxious to meet you, Harry."

"Really? Why?"

"It might have something to do with the fact that he was a good friend of your father."

* * *

Harry knew nothing about his father apart from his name, James, and that he apparently looked much like him. Aunt Perin had told him about his mother... well, occasionally, when she managed to broach the topic without descending into tears or brooding silence. But his father? Nothing. His aunt and uncle had apparently only met him once, many years back, and the meeting had been rather brief. Harry also got the distinct impression that something pretty bad had happened during that meeting, but neither his aunt nor his uncle had ever told him any details.

So it was with some anxiety that Harry walked into the cockpit of the light freighter. The window was filled with the swirling nothingness of hyperspace, which Harry had only ever seen in holovids, but never in person. It was an awesome sight, which actually managed to distract him from the person siting in the pilot seat for quite a few seconds. Which was saying something, because said person was huge. Huge and hairy.

"Eh, excuse me?" he began.

The pilot turned around, revealing the intimidating sight of a Wookie. Harry had occasionally seen Wookies in Anchorhead and Mos Eisley, but not often and only ever from afar. Being this close to one... it was a somewhat daunting experience.

"Oh, Harry, young pub, I am so glad to see you again!"

Harry needed a moment to digest the words, a very, very heavily accented version of Basic. He understood, barely, but it took some time and a lot of concentration.

"A-again?"

The Wookie gave him what Harry hoped was an indulgent smile. "Of course, you would not remember. Last time we met you were so tiny, you snugly fit into the crook of my arm."

Looking at the arm in question, Harry was quite certain that he would still fit quite snugly into said crook, but refrained from commenting. Instead he climbed into the copilot seat beside the Wookie.

"I… ah, Master Ma-Gon Gell said you were a good friend of my father?"

The Wookie nodded. "Yes, I was. Oh, where are my manners? I am Hagricca, young Harry. And I knew your father well. A good man, he was."

"Can you... I mean, I don't know anything about him, really. Can you tell me a little bit about him?"

Hagricca happily agreed and Harry spent the next several hours learning, for the first time, about a man called James Potter, the best star pilot in the galaxy, a cunning warrior, and his father. Apparently he and Hagricca had first met on Kashyyyk, the Wookie home world, in the early days of the Clone Wars. The Separatists had sought to take the Wookies out of the war early, before the Republic could recruit them as troops, and had launched an all-out invasion. Republic troops, led by Jedi, had responded and the lush forest world had turned into a warzone.

James and Hagricca had met amidst the fighting and James ended up saving Hagricca's life in the process. From that moment on Hagricca barely ever left James' side, as the Wookies considered a life debt a very serious matter. They also became friends and Hagricca fought in many battles beside Harry's father and the other Jedi and was present the day when James wed Lilly.

"Did you... did you know Sirius Black?" Harry asked during a lull in the story.

Hagricca's face grew somber and he looked down.

"Yes, I did, Harry. Quite well, even. Or rather, I thought I knew him well. Had anyone told me back then that he would betray your mom and dad the way he did, I would never have believed it. He and your dad had known each other since they trained together in the Praxeum. I... I never understood why he did it. Never."

Looking up, the Wookie's soulful eyes met Harry's.

"I am sorry, Harry. Very sorry. I should have been with you and your mom and dad that day. I should have protected them, protected you all. They said I was needed elsewhere, that they were completely safe, but still, I should have stayed with you instead of being halfway across the galaxy when you needed me the most."

Harry was a bit overwhelmed, but the same way he could usually tell when someone was lying to him, he also felt the heavy grief and guilt his opposite was feeling right now.

"I... I am sure my parents would not want you to punish yourself for this, Hagricca. You couldn't have known."

The heavy silence that had descended upon them was suddenly disturbed by a beeping sound from the ship's control board. Hagricca quickly toggled several switches – amazing Harry with his dexterity despite having humongous paws for hands – and a small holographic image winked into existence before them.

"Greetings, Hagricca. I hope everything went well on Tatooine?" the hologram asked.

"Indeed it did, Master Dore. Young Harry is with us right now. Harry? This is Dunn-Bel Dore, Grand Master of the Jedi Order."

Harry studied the tiny image, showing an ancient-looking human male with a long beard and dressed in the same kind of robes Master Gell wore. Looking at him, the hologram smiled.

"Ah, Harry. It is good to see you again and I hope we will soon be able to meet in person. However, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to make a small detour, Hagricca. Something has come up on Circarpous V and I need you to meet with our local contact there. She will give you a package that must be brought here to Coruscant with all due haste."

"No problem at all, Master Dore," Hagricca said, typing into the navigation computer. "It will only cost us a few hours delay. We can be there in... roughly four hours."

"Very good. The woman you are meeting is Jedi Knight Halla. Master Gell knows her, so there should be no problem verifying her identity. Take possession of the package and immediately resume your travel to Coruscant. Once here, bring it directly to me."

"Understood, Master Dore. I will contact you again once we are leaving Circarpous V."

"Thank you, Hagricca. And Harry, I am very much looking forward to meeting you. Until then, my friends!"

The hologram winked out, leaving Harry just staring at the empty space. So much was happening and he understood very little of it, to be honest.

"Now don't worry, pub," Hagricca said, setting the new course. "This is but a routine delivery run, nothing more. I've been to Circarpous V before and the most dangerous thing there is the smell. Too many swamps."

"If you say so, Hagricca," Harry replied, uncertain.

* * *

Their brief stop at Circarpous V proved to be as uneventful as Hagricca had promised, with one notable exception. When they met their contact, a Jedi named Halla, the other woman was barely able to deliver the package – a sealed metal container with no markings or any other clue as to what was in it – because she was so busy staring at Harry's scar. She muttered something about him being the 'Jedi-Born' and almost got down on her knees, thanking Harry for saving the galaxy and ridding them of Lord Voldemort. Harry was acutely embarrassed by it all and quickly retreated into the ship.

"I am very sorry, Harry," Master Gell said when they had taken off again, leaving the muddy swamp world behind. "It's been some time since I last saw Halla. I was unaware that she was one of those who believed in the legend of you somehow having defeated Lord Voldemort."

Harry sighed. "Is this going to happen every time I meet someone out here, even among the Jedi? Are they going to stare at me in awe for something I may or may not have done when I was not even one year old and can't remember?"

"I won't lie to you, Harry, you will probably encounter that kind of reaction quite often on Coruscant. I am afraid you will have to learn to live with it."

"Great! Any idea how?"

Gell smiled at him. "The Force will guide you on your path, Harry, trust in it. And until then, I propose you handle it in two different ways. Those who care to look past the façade, let them get to know the real Harry. And the rest? To blazes with them! Leave them to their fantasy stories!"

Harry laughed a bit, still feeling uneasy, but considered that a good piece of advice.

"You better get some rest now," Gell said. "In a few hours we'll be on Coruscant and it will probably be a long first day for you."

Harry nodded, bunking down. This was what he had asked for, wasn't it? Big adventure in outer space, far away from Tatooine. Well, he had gotten his wish. Now it was time to see whether the reality could live up to the fantasy.

End Chapter 3


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

 _Jedi Starship Stellar Envoy, approaching Coruscant_

Having spent all of his life (or all of it that he could remember, anyway) on the backwater planet of Tatooine, Harry had known – intellectually – that coming to the center of civilization might be a bit of a culture shock for him. He had seen pictures of Coruscant in holovids, of course, had learned that it was the most densely populated planet in the known universe, and been told that sometimes the traffic of space ships in orbit was so thick that it blotted out the sun.

None of which had really prepared him for the sight that awaited him as the _Stellar Envoy_ exited hyperspace.

"Wow," he breathed, staring straight ahead.

The entire planet was one big city. Every inch of it was covered in buildings, some so large one could make them out even from this distance, the rest just settling into a strange, angular pattern that covered the entire hemisphere. Space around the planet was positively stuffed with tiny dots, each of them a space ship, and large space stations floated around in near and far orbit as well.

"Some sight, eh Harry?" Hagricca asked as he guided the ship in with a steady hand. Harry had no idea how the Wookie knew where to go, it all looked like barely controlled chaos to him, but soon enough he Envoy slipped into a long line of ships that were steadily approaching the surface below.

"YT-1300 freighter, this is Coruscant flight control, please send identification," a voice challenged them over the com.

"Coruscant control, this is the _Stellar Envoy_ , ID number 492727ZED, on special mission for the Jedi Council. Requesting permission to land at the Jedi Praxeum."

A patrol craft flew past them, briefly inspecting their hull number and checking the registry, then headed on to the next ship in line.

" _Stellar Envoy_ , you are cleared to land."

"Thank you, Coruscant control."

Harry barely listened to the conversation; his eyes were glued to the sights outside. As they approached, more and more details of the humongous planet-sized city became visible to the naked eye. There was no trace of the original surface to be seen. Huge chasms between the towering buildings just led to lower levels of buildings, which had been built on yet more buildings. Endless lines of hovercraft streamed between the towers, many of which were actually above the clouds. Harry was certain that there were more people bustling about in this tiny portion of the planet than he had seen his entire life.

"How can they live like this?" Harry asked, amazed. "I mean, I'd get hopelessly lost down there in a heartbeat."

Hagricca chuckled. "It can be very daunting for a first-time visitor, I know. You get used to it. Mind you, I would never want to live here permanently. What kind of home doesn't have any trees left, eh?"

Harry knew that Kashyyyk, the Wookie homeworld, was covered in humongous trees for the most part. He was sure he'd feel as out of place there as he felt on this city planet, but to each his own, he guessed.

"And over there is the Jedi Praxeum, Harry. We're on final approach."

Harry looked where Hagricca was pointing and saw a huge structure that was sitting on top of one of the few flat, open surfaces he had seen on this planet so far. Okay, it was a metal surface, probably with lots and lots of buildings beneath it, but at least it gave the illusion of open space. The main building was shaped much like a pyramid of which someone had cut the top of, instead four small towers sat on top of it, surrounding a larger tower in the center.

As they flew closer, Harry began to appreciate how truly massive the structure was. The central tower was by far the tallest structure in the vicinity and positively dwarfed the _Stellar Envoy_ as it circled around it towards the main landing pad of the structure.

"How big is that thing?" Harry asked Hagricca, his mind struggling to encompass this building that could probably hold every single man-made structure on Tatooine inside itself with room to spare.

"Hmm, I don't rightly know, Harry. It was originally a mountain fortress, thousands of years ago, built on top of Coruscants' highest peak. But don't worry. No one has gotten lost inside of it yet, to my knowledge. Well, at least not permanently."

Harry gulped, not feeling relieved in the slightest.

* * *

Once the _Stellar Envoy_ had landed, Hagricca excused himself, taking the mysterious container into the building. Which left Harry with Master Ma-Gon Gell.

"Come along, Harry," she said, handing him his travel bag.

"Ah, what happens now?" he asked as they walked down the ramp. The colossal building loomed in front him, casting a vast shadow across the metal landing field.

"Now, I fear, comes a bit of a boring part. We have a welcome ceremony for all the new students of the Praxeum, but that is still a few hours away. We have students coming in from all over the galaxy and coordinating arrival times across these distances is somewhat difficult. Making them all arrive the same day is a feat all by itself."

"And until then?"

Gell lead him into a large entrance hall. Pillars supported the ceiling overhead and benches were grouped around the pillars and along the walls. A number of droids were roaming the room, carrying what looked like refreshments. Several dozen people were already present, representing at least ten different species, all of them rather young as best as Harry could tell, and most of them looking just as nervous as he felt.

"These are your fellow Padawans, Harry, all of them new here as well. For now, just mingle a bit. Get to know your fellow students. I'll see you again at the welcome ceremony."

And with those words Master Ma-Gon Gell just left him standing there at the entrance of a room filled with strangers, on a planet he had never seen before, far away from home. For a long minute Harry had no idea what to do, so he just stood there and stared... and stared... and stared. Maybe if he stared long enough something would happen?

"You okay, mate? You look a bit shell-shocked there."

Harry started, looking in the direction the voice had come from. A red-haired human boy about his age had walked up to him without him noticing, giving him a critical look. The boy was dressed in what looked like well-worn pilot pants and a faded jacket. Harry had seen similar outfits on quite a few freighter pilots on Tatooine.

"Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "It's just a bit... overwhelming. I... ah... I never even left my home world before today and then they just shove me in here and... it's all a bit much."

The boy just laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "I can imagine. Me, I've got five older brothers, all of whom went through the Praxeum before me or are here right now. They told me how it was going to be... and I'm still nervous. Ron Wiblis, fresh from Corellia."

Harry shook the offered hand, feeling a bit lighter already. "Harry Potter, just in from... are you all right, Ron?"

Upon hearing his name the other boy had paled, staring at him with wide eyes.

"You... you are Harry Potter? Harry Potter, the Jedi-Born? Do you... you have the...?" he gestured toward Harry's forehead. Sighing deeply, Harry brushed his wild hair away, revealing the burn-scar he had carried ever since that day he couldn't remember, which apparently made him famous all through galaxy.

"Wow," Ron jus said, staring at the scar.

"It's really not that big a deal, Ron," he just said.

"Not a big deal? You defeated Lord Voldemort, the most powerful Lord of the Sith in history."

Harry scowled at the other boy. "That's what they tell me, yes. Thing is, I was about one year old at the time. I don't remember a thing about it and until two days ago I never heard about it, either. From what Master Ma-Gon Gell told me, it was probably something my parents did that destroyed Voldemort, not me. So just let it go, okay?"

Ron seemed a bit taken aback, but finally nodded. "Okay, sorry. I... I guess you're getting the staring thing quite a lot, aren't you?"

The two boys walked toward a bench near the entrance, which was currently unoccupied. Ron quickly snagged a snack from one of the roaming droids.

"You're actually only the second person so far, Ron, but Master Gell warned me that it was going to be a thing, probably."

Sitting down, Harry was looking at the other boy. "You said your older brothers told you all about the Praxeum? So, what happens next? Gell said something about a welcoming ceremony, but that's all I know so far."

Ron immediately brightened up, apparently quite eager to share what he knew.

"Well, first thing we're going to be put into one of the Padawan squadrons. There are four of them, named after four of the most famous Jedi in history. Nomi Sunrider, Garon Jard, Rajivari, and Krynda Draay. Sunrider squad is the best, all my brothers have been there, so I hope to get in as well. Oh, I think both your parents were Sunriders, too, Harry."

"How do they decide who goes into what squadron?" Harry asked, interested.

Now Ron looked a bit lost. "I... I don't really know. None of my brothers would tell me apart from there being some sort of test. Fern and Garm told me we would have to wrestle a baby Rancor, but I'm pretty sure they were just having me on... I hope."

Harry gulped. He had seen a Rancor once, a special delivery for Jabba the Hutt on Tatooine. He had no desire to get up close and personal with one, even a baby.

"Okay, and after that?"

"Well, afterwards the training starts. Using the Force, handling light sabers, the whole thing. Me, I'm really looking forward to getting my hand on a light saber. Cam showed me his once, it was great. Can't wait to wield one myself."

Harry had no idea what a light sabre was, to be honest. He figured it was some sort of weapon, Master Gell had mentioned it briefly in her story about how Harry's parents had died, but he had been too preoccupied with the story at a whole to ask about one minor detail. Clearly it was supposed to be some form of weapon. He was about to ask, but then thought better of it. No doubt he would soon find out during training, no need to appear even more like a dumb little farm boy than he probably already did.

"Can you use the Force already?" Harry asked instead. "Master Gell tried to make me float a hydro spanner with it, but all I could manage was to make it wobble a bit."

Ron grimaced. "Nothing beyond the accidental stuff most Force-sensitive kids do. Oh, but I've been working on this one thing. Wait a minute!"

Rummaging through his trunk, Ron finally produced a deck of what Harry recognized to be Sabacc cards. He didn't know the game himself, but he had seen plenty of people playing it in Anchor Head and Mos Eisley, usually for hefty amounts of credits. Ron unpacked the deck, shuffled it, and held it out to Harry.

"Okay, take one card, memorize it, and put it back!"

Harry raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told, drawing the Mistress of Coins. He quickly put it back and Ron shuffled the deck again. Then he put it down, held his hand above it, and concentrated. "Now think of the card you had, Harry!"

Before Harry could do so, however, they were suddenly interrupted by a third person.

"Excuse me, have either of you seen a Nuna running around here? A boy called Nevier brought one as a pet, but it appears to have run off."

The speaker was a human girl their age, with brown hair done up in an elaborate do and wearing white robes. She looked at the playing cards in front of them.

"Oh, are you doing a card trick?" she asked, sounding interested.

"It's not a trick," Ron huffed. "I'm using the Force to find the card Harry picked earlier."

"Oh, really? Well, let's see it, then!"

The additional spectator seemed to have thrown Ron off his game somewhat, but he still closed his eyes and concentrated. Shrugging, Harry focused on the image of the card he had picked, trying to push it to the front of his mind. Focusing, he could feel a subtle current of energy flowing through the room, a mere trickle compared to what he had felt earlier when Ma-Gon Gell had floated the hydro spanner, but still present. Maybe Ron could actually pick up the image from his mind?

"Your card was...," he began, his hand shaking slightly.

There was a subdued bang and the card deck suddenly exploded, cards flying away in all directions. Harry flinched back, a few cards pelting him.

"I assume you did not intend for that to happen, did you?" the girl in the white robes asked, picking a card out from a fold of her robe.

Ron grumbled, looking at the mess. "Not exactly, no."

"Did you pick up what card it was at least?"

Ron looked at Harry. "Eh... was it the Ace of Staves?" he asked hopefully.

Harry was this close to just saying yes to salve Ron's wounded ego, but ultimately decided to be honest instead. "Sorry, Ron, it was actually the Mistress of Coins."

The girl, apparently having lost interest in Ron's cards by now, was looking at him instead. "He called you Harry. You wouldn't be Harry Potter, by any chance?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, that's me. And you are?"

"I'm Hermione Ogranger, from Alderaan."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Ogranger? As in Queen Breha Ogranger of Alderaan?"

Hermione gave him an eye roll. "Yes, she's my mother."

"Wow, did you hear that, Harry?" Ron clapped him on his shoulder, excited. "She's the daughter of Queen Breha and Viceroy Bail Ogranger of Alderaan. We have a princess talking to us."

Hermione just waved him off. "That is a misleading title, the throne of Alderaan is not hereditary and it's mostly a ceremonial position anyway. My father is Prince Consort, but as Viceroy he actually holds more political power than my mom does as queen."

Harry's hopes that he might actually have encountered someone who knew what it was like to be 'famous' mostly for stuff their parents had done were quickly dashed, however, as Hermione rattled on.

"I read all about you, Harry. There is a whole chapter on you in _History of the Jedi_. Most of it is admittedly speculation, as Master Dunn-Bel Dore has refused to unveil most of the information on what happened the day Lord Voldemort was defeated, but..."

"It was also the day my parents died," he interrupted her. "And I was one year old at the time."

Apparently realizing he was not very fond of the topic, the girl blinked, stopping. "I had no intention to offend, sorry. I... I don't even want to imagine what it would be like to lose my parents that early."

"I don't remember hearing about Queen Breha or Viceroy Bail being Force-sensitive," Ron changed the topic, much to Harry's relief.

"They aren't," Hermione said, sitting down beside them. "As far as we can tell, I'm the first in either family to be sensitive to the Force."

A very derogatory-sounding sneer drew their attention to another new arrival, or rather three of them. Harry immediately recognized two of them as Gamorreans, better known back home on Tatooine as pig-lizards. Harry had seen a number of them in Mos Eisley and Anchorhead, mostly when Jabba or other Hutts were in town, serving as guards. He had a hard time imagining the brutish thugs he had come to know as Jedi or Jedi trainees, to be honest, though the two were a good deal smaller than any he had seen back home.

The two young Gamorreans were flanking a third, shorter figure. Harry didn't recognize the species; if asked to describe it he would say that it was equal parts feline, canine, and equine in appearance. A long face was framed by a mane of blonde-white hair and long, pointed ears extended upwards. The body was humanoid, if a bit stocky, and despite being shorter than any of the three humans, the alien somehow managed to give the appearance of looking down on them.

"So it is true," the alien said in accent-free Basic. "The famous Harry Potter has come to the Praxeum."

Harry seldom disliked people at first glance, but he was willing to make an exception here. "And you are?" he asked.

"Drask Mal'Fyel of Bothawui," he answered, apparently expecting Harry to recognize the name. "My father is Senator Lutric Mal'Fyel."

"Well... good for you."

Obviously somewhat taken aback by the short answer, Mal'Fyel looked between Harry and the other two human children. "A word to the wise, Potter. Your fame will only carry you so far here on Coruscant. It is important to select the right kinds of friends and allies early. And, more importantly, stay away from the wrong sort." He looked at Ron and Hermione. "I could... help you with that." He offered a clawed hand to Harry.

"I'm pretty sure I can tell the wrong sort already," Harry simply replied, ignoring the hand.

The Bothan's fur rippled, obviously not happy at being rebuffed this way. Snorting again, he simply turned around and walked away, his two companions following on his heel.

"Charming fellow," Harry said.

"My father doesn't like Senator Mal'Fyel much," Hermione told them. "Says he is only interested in personal power and influence, not the greater good of the Republic."

"Looks like his son follows in his footsteps," Ron added. "Don't understand how that sort can become a Jedi."

The three humans continued to chat as time went by and the entrance hall began to fill up with more and more young sentients from all over the galaxy. Finally, after what felt like far too many hours, Master Ma-Gon Gell reappeared, standing in front of the big double doors leading further into the building.

"Your attention, please," she called out, easily cutting short all ongoing conversations. "Thank you all for your patience. We will now start the welcoming ceremony. Please follow me!"

End Chapter 4


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Master Ma-Gon Gell led the group of young sentients down a long corridor. As they went on, the building around them seemed to grow older, as though they were steadily progressing into ever more ancient parts of the huge structure. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if they soon encountered the bare rock of the mountain the temple was supposedly built on.

"The first part of the welcoming ceremony," Master Ma-Gon Gell explained to them, "is the Sorting.

In the past Padawans were usually taught one on one by a Jedi Knight or Master and the welcoming ceremony would involve teachers and their prospective students getting to know each other in order to form the necessary bonds. While that system has sustained the Jedi Order over many thousands of years, we were forced to change our ways when the Clone Wars began. With so many Jedi involved in the fighting, the Padawans vastly outnumbered the available teachers, a situation that only grew worse as the wars went on and we suffered more and more losses. Thus we were forced to adapt our teaching methods. In a few decades that might change once again, once our numbers have recovered. Maybe you yourself will become teachers for single Padawans one day. But for now it means that we will teach you in a different way.

"Now many of you have certainly already heard about the four Padawan squadrons we have formed here at the Praxeum. Each of you will be sorted into one of the squadrons and each squadron has a different focus, patterned after the four main duties fully-trained Jedi perform in the Republic. Now don't worry, being sorted into a specific squadron does not mean you are automatically forced to take up that particular duty after your training is complete and it is possible to switch squadrons during training if we discover that your strengths might lie in other areas, though that does not happen often.

"Our squadrons are as follows. Jard squadron is named after one of the founders of our order, Garon Jard. Members of Jard squadron will focus on the duties and skills of future Jedi Consulars. The Consulars are those Jedi who are strongly involved in diplomacy, the healing arts, and the gathering of knowledge.

"Rajivari squad is named after Jedi General Rajivari, one of the first of our order to work closely with the Republic military. Rajivari Padawans will likely take up a position in the Grand Army of the Republic in the future, serving in a martial capacity.

"Sunrider squad, named after legendary Jedi Master Nomi Sunrider, is the home of future Jedi Guardians. The Guardians are those who take an active stand against the dark side. They patrol the frontier worlds, bring peace and justice to those in need, and – most importantly – are our spear point against the threat of the Sith.

"And finally, Draay squad, is named after Krynda Draay, founder of the Jedi Intelligence Corps. Here you will learn to be Jedi Sentinels, who focus on gathering intelligence, watching over established systems, and working within the political arena of the Republic."

Harry listened closely as Master Gell explained. From what he had heard so far he was tempted to agree with Ron that he would probably fit best in Sunrider squadron. Okay, for Ron it seemed to mostly be about ending up in the same squadron as his elder brothers, but Harry could not really imagine himself in the role of a Consular or Sentinel. And he was pretty sure uncle Owen would have his hide if he followed a path that would land him in the military. But being a Jedi Guardian, working on the Outer Rim worlds, putting a stop to how scum like the Hutts treated innocent people ... he could see himself doing that.

"How is it decided what squadron fits us best?" Hermione asked, having walked slightly ahead to catch up with Master Gell.

"Patience, young one," Gell simply said. "We are almost there, then you will find out."

Harry was pretty sure he heard Hermione humph in annoyance, but she did fall back a step or two and followed Master Gell in silence. He smiled. Given that she was the daughter of career politicians and seemed to have quite the thirst for knowledge from what he had seen so far, he was pretty certain Hermione would end up in Jard or Draay squadron.

They finally arrived before a large set of doors that marked the end of the long corridor. The doors looked like they had been fashioned in ancient times and carried the marks of more than one violent altercation, too. They still stood solid, though, timeless and strong.

At a gesture from Ma-Gon Gell the huge doors opened and revealed the huge chamber lying beyond. It was a large circular room, dome-like, and Harry could easily imagine it as the exact center of the entire complex. His eyes were immediately drawn to the curved ceiling, which appeared to be a huge view screen, showing a detailed map of the galaxy. For a moment he tried to find Tatooine, but he didn't know enough stellar cartography for that.

The walls of the hall were covered in tapestries that showed scenes from the long history of the Jedi Order (or so he assumed) and larger-than-life statues – all of them wearing Jedi robes of one kind or another – stood in a long line that curved around the room. The atmosphere seemed thick with the weight of the past, as if untold generations of past Jedi were watching them.

In the middle of the chamber he saw five tables, four large and a single smaller one. Given the numbers and apparent ages of the people sitting at these tables, it wasn't hard to figure out that the four larger ones were for the Padawan squadrons, while the smaller one was for the teaching staff. He could make out Master Dunn-Bel Dore already sitting at the center table, recognizing him from his holographic image, flanked by several other adult Jedi. The four other tables each held a large number of students ranging in age from just barely older than Harry himself to near-adults (at least for those species he could easily tell the age of).

"Another year has passed," Master Dunn-Bel Dore announced, his voice easily carrying across the entire huge chamber, "and once again we welcome new Padawans to our Praxeum. Let the Sorting ceremony begin."

A solitary figure rose from the teaching staff table and slowly hobbled into the very center of the room, standing directly underneath the great map of the galaxy.

"You will now step forward one by one," Master Ma-Gon Gell told the new arrivals. "The sorting into the four squadrons will be performed by Jedi Master Shoatin Hats."

The Jedi in question was an ancient-looking man, appearing even older than Dunn-Bel Dore. He wore a simple beige robe and it was almost impossible to tell where the robe ended and his wrinkled skin began. Leaning on a cane, he appeared to be human or near-human, but the top half of his head was covered by a kind of veil.

"I've read about Master Shoatin Hats in _History of the Jedi_ ," Hermione whispered. "He's a Miraluka. Of course, that makes him perfect for deciding where each student is supposed to go."

"Care to explain this to the Outer Rim farm boy?" Harry asked. "What's so special about the Miraluka?"

"The Miraluka are a naturally Force-sensitive species, Harry. While most of them would only be considered minor Force talents, they are all capable of Force sight. It's so dominant a trait in them that they have no eyes, only vestigial remnants. They perceive the world around them only through the Force. It is said that a Miraluka can tell with but a glance how strong someone is in the Force and where their Force-related talents lie."

Ron gave her a skeptical look. "So the old dude is supposed to decide our whole future path for us with but one glance?"

"He doesn't decide the path for you," Hermione corrected him snidely. "He just sees what path you are already headed towards."

Harry was a bit skeptical himself, but he figured he would find out whether Hermione was right or not pretty soon. Or rather, Hermione would find out first, given that they were going by alphabetical order, it seemed. So he watched as, one by one, the potential future Jedi stood before the ancient master.

For some it took but a few seconds, with others he spent several minutes. There was no conversation they could hear, though Harry was aware that they might communicate via the Force in ways he could not perceive yet. But inevitably Master Hats would, in the end, simply state which squadron the Padawan would end up in, and the Padawan in question would be sent to one of the four tables, where he or she was welcomed by the students already sitting there.

Harry briefly snorted in amusement as Drask Mal'Fyel stood before the ancient Jedi and was pronounced "Draay" in less than a second. Which only reinforced his desire to not end up among that particular lot.

"Hermione Ogranger," Ma-Gon Gell read the next name from her data pad and Hermione stepped forward. She looked nervous, but didn't hesitate. Stopping half a step away from the ancient Jedi, the two of them spent quite some time looking at each other. Harry could see Hermione fidget and had to remind himself to breathe.

"Sunrider!" Master Hats finally announced.

"What?" Ron started, just managing to keep his voice to a whisper. "By what definition is that girl a Sunrider? I had her pegged for a Jard for sure."

Harry just shrugged, being rather surprised himself. Then again, he knew Hermione for all of three hours or so. There was probably more to her than just being a chattering know-it-all. Hermione went over to the appropriate table, talking to a few of the older students. Harry tried to keep his nervousness down as the line in front of him grew shorter and shorter. Until, finally, it was time.

"Harry Potter," Ma-Gon Gell announced.

A hush fell over the room and Harry felt many, many stares on him. He wasn't sure whether it was his nascent ability to feel the Force or just plain old instinct, but he knew that every single person in this room was now waiting to hear what squadron he ended up in.

Master Shoatin Hats looked even more ancient from up close, his face so wrinkled it was almost impossible to see where his mouth was. Harry knew that the old Jedi had no eyes, but he still tried to look where they would have been on a human. Trying to relax, he felt the current of the Force flowing between him and his opposite.

Within moments Harry knew why no one ever told the prospective students how exactly the sorting worked, because it was impossible to describe the sensations he was experiencing. When Ma-Gon Gell had shown him the flow of the Force on board the _Stellar Envoy_ , it had been a tickling feeling, a mild current almost. This, though, was on a whole different level. It felt as if he and the old man were surrounded by a living, breathing cocoon of energy and though his opposite had no eyes, he felt as if he was being looked at more thoroughly than ever before.

 _Sense much fear in you, I do._

It wasn't a voice so much as an impression, as if the words were written right across his mind. Fear? Of course he felt fear. He was far away from home in a room full of strangers, all of whom thought they knew him from old stories that were really about his parents, expecting him to live up to the example of people he had never met. Who wouldn't be afraid?

 _Do not let fear control you, young Harry. Fear leads to anger and anger leads to the dark side. Conquer your fear and let it go, you must!_

That sounded really easy, Harry almost snorted.

 _Much you have to learn! Unsuited for a Consular, you are. Eyes fixed on the horizon, lack the patience for it. Chaff under the strict rules of the military, you would, too. Not made to be a soldier._

Yeah, those had been his thoughts as well.

 _Easily use your fame and powerful name in the arena of politics, you could. Grow powerful, you might. To go this route, many expect you already. Easy for you to become a great Sentinel, it would._

No, he shook his head internally. As much as he wanted to learn more about his parents and their history, he was not going to use their sacrifice to make himself a career. Plus, he was not the sort to make nice with politicians and bureaucrats. He had seen them work – small scale – on Tatooine and had no interest in the no doubt much larger and more complicated workings here on Coruscant. If he was to become any sort of Jedi, he wanted to be the kind that actually helped people hands-on, a Guardian.

 _Well now, I see your choice you have made already._

"Sunrider!"

* * *

After another half hour or so the Sorting was completed. Ron, unsurprisingly, was also sorted into Sunrider squad and sat down at the same table where Harry and Hermione already sat. He also introduced them to three of his brothers, who were already there. The oldest Wiblis present was Piric, who was in his fifth year and served as squadron leader (whatever that meant, exactly), while the other two were twins, Fern and Garm, who were in their third year. Harry was also introduced to a number of other people, but by now he was so overwhelmed that he knew he would not be able to remember all their names. He had met more new people today than he usually encountered in a full month on Tatooine.

Once everyone was sat down all attention was focused on the center table, where the teaching staff sat. Master Ma-Gon Gell had sat down to the right of Master Dunn-Bell Dore, who now rose to greet the student body.

"Welcome, all of you, to the Jedi Praxeum," he began. "I realize that it has been a long day for all of you, especially our newcomers, so I will try and keep this brief. First off, allow me to remind you that the Jedi Temple is a very large, very old building, and easy to get lost in for those unfamiliar with its layout. So all first year Padawans should stick to those parts of it where the class rooms and dormitories are and not go exploring until you know your way around. Also, and this goes for all students, please be advised that level 5, area 17 is off limits to all students, no exceptions."

As Master Dore talked, Harry's eyes wandered across the assembled teachers. Most of them seemed rather unremarkable, but his eyes were drawn to the far end and the large, dark figure sitting there. Clad in black robes, a stark contrast to his red skin tone, he stood out not just because most other Jedi seemed to prefer Earthen tones for their robes. No, it was more than that. It almost seemed as if he was surrounded by shadows and Harry noticed with a start that, underneath the horns adorning his forehead, blood-red eyes were currently staring at him.

"Who is that?" he asked Ron without taking his eyes off the dark man.

"Who?" Ron followed Harry's line of sight. "Oh, that is Savarius Sihn. My brothers told me about him. He's from Dathomir. Everyone says he has a definite taste for the Dark Side of the Force and that even the Nightsisters didn't want any part of him."

Even on Tatooine Harry had heard of Dathomir, the home of the infamous Nightsisters, notorious users of the Dark Side of the Force. To be honest, though, he had considered them to mere fairy tales. Looking at the black-clad man with the red skin, horns, and facial tattoos, though, the tales became somewhat easier to believe.

"That is nonsense, Ron," Hermione interjected. "Master Dunn-Bel Dore would never allow a Darksider to teach at the Jedi Praxeum."

"What subject is he teaching?" Harry asked.

"Mind Arts," Ron replied, giving Hermione a miffed look. "Garm says he really wants to teach Combat Class, but Master Dore refuses him year after year. Fern told me Sihn was far from happy when Dore appointed Knight Quirrell as the new combat instructor."

Harry looked to the man sitting next to Savarius Sihn, a pale human Jedi in a traditional Jedi robe with the hood up. He didn't look like much of a fighter, to be honest, but growing up on Tatooine had taught Harry that looks could be deceiving and even the most harmless-looking person could turn out to be quite dangerous.

With Sihn still staring at him, Harry suddenly felt a flare of pain, centered on his forehead. What was that? He had had this scar as long as he could remember and it had never hurt before.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Ron asked, having seen him flinch.

The pain faded as quickly as it had come. Harry could see Sihn shift his attention towards Master Dore, who was still talking about something. Harry had long stopped paying attention.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, rubbing his forehead to dispel the lingering pain. "Just fine."

End Chapter 5


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Harry had very little clear memories of the rest of the welcoming ceremony and the remains of the day. It had all been too much for a farm boy from an Outer Rim world, most of it had passed in a blur. He could remember being led to the Sunrider squad quarters, where he was rooming with Ron and three other boys whose names he promised himself he would remember soon. He hadn't really bothered unpacking, being too worn out, so he had just grabbed the first thing that would serve as sleeping clothes and collapsed on his bunk, out like a light.

Despite being very much worn out, Harry was up at the crack of dawn, Coruscant's sun just peaking over the endless skyline of buildings that surrounded the Jedi Temple. It was a habit ingrained by growing up on a desert world, where you had to get your daily work done as early as possible before the heat of the twin suns grew to unbearable levels. His four bunk mates still slept, so Harry took the opportunity to get a long shower in.

Few people who had not grown up in the desert would ever really understand what luxury a long shower really was, especially when you didn't have to ration the water. Come to think of it, though, with this entire world being a city, shouldn't water be rather sparse here, too? Especially with however many billions of sentients living here? Still, he didn't let it stop his enjoyment.

When he returned to his room, the other four boys were only just getting up and stumbling towards the showers, leaving him ample time to get dressed. Thing was, now that he was dressed, he had no idea what was going to happen next. Would they get a schedule for the day? Some sort of lesson plan? Had Dunn-Bel Dore said something about it last night and he had missed it?

Stepping outside into the Sunrider squad common room – basically just a big room with some tables, chairs, and several work stations – answered his questions. One of the walls was a big view screen and displayed schedules for the various semesters. Harry's eyes quickly sought out the listings for the first year Padawans.

0800 – Breakfast

0830 – Morning Meditation

0900 – Force Studies (Control)

1100 – History / Political Sciences

1200 – Lunch

1230 – Noon Meditation

1300 – Physical Training

1530 – Force Studies (Mind Arts)

1730 – Evening Meditation

1800 – Dinner

It certainly looked like a full schedule. Three different meditation sessions? Harry had never meditated in his life, so he had little idea what would await him there. History and political sciences seemed straightforward enough, just like physical training. He was most interested in the Force Studies sections, naturally. Two different blocks of it, one called Control, one called Mind Arts? Well, he'd see what the differences were soon enough.

Breakfast was a relatively unspectacular affair. Just a big mess hall with tables, droids handing out food, sentients mingling. Harry figured the food was rather plain by Coruscant standards, but given the usual lack of variety in food stuff on Tatooine, he considered it a luxury meal. Ron and he talked a bit about their respective backgrounds, he managed to memorize the names of a few of his squad mates, and before knew it, it was 0830 and time for his Jedi training to begin.

* * *

 _Morning Meditation_

If there was one thing that Jedi seemed to do a whole lot of, it was meditation. Their instructor, a Felucian Jedi called Sprout, explained to them that the single most important basic skill a future Jedi had to master was to find their center and immerse themselves in the currents of the Force. All other skills of the Jedi built on this, the ability to sense and access the living energy field that surrounded and connected everyone and everything in the galaxy. It had to become second nature to them.

It was a bit of a strange sight, Harry mused. Felucians were big, squat, and blue. An amphibian race, they lived in close communion with the environment on their home planet, which gave them a deep connection to the Force. So here was this big alien, face framed by tentacles, four arms, giving the distinct impression that it wouldn't mind eating you, but talking with a soothing, warm voice about the living Force and guiding them into their first meditation session.

Harry wasn't sure how much it really accomplished, but the 30 minutes that were scheduled for the session passed very quickly and he did feel... calm, peaceful even. Ron, on the other hand, quickly complained that he was bored. And though it might just have been a trick of perspective, Harry was rather sure he had seen Hermione briefly float a tiny distance above the floor while she meditated.

* * *

 _Force Studies (Control)_

Master Ma-Gon Gell taught the next class and unlike what Harry had believed, the term Control did not refer to using the Force to control other objects (such as hydro spanners). That would actually come later in a study block called Force Studies (Alter). No, the term Control actually referred to self-control. According to the Jedi teachings, a Jedi could not master their environment until they had mastered their own selves.

"Controlling yourselves is doubly important, actually," Master Gell lectured. "I am sure many of you have already heard about the Sith and the Dark Side of the Force. You will learn more about these topics as your studies progress, but the most important point is this: a Jedi uses the Force from a position of calmness and peace. We use the Force to defend, to protect. A Sith, however, uses the Force aggressively, using their darker emotions as a focus. Hatred, fear, aggression, those are the paths to the Dark Side of the Force."

"Is the Dark Side stronger?" Harry asked. His parents had been powerful Jedi, apparently, but had died in combat with a single Sith Lord.

"Stronger, no," Gell told him emphatically. "Quicker, easier, more seductive. Ultimately, though, the Dark Side only leads to destruction. All those who have followed the dark path have ultimately paid for it with their lives and those of others, too. Which is why the central pillar of the Jedi way is to always remain in control of yourself. Feel the flow of the Force and follow its path."

"But surely we cannot always deny our emotions," Hermione argued. "Even the darker emotions you mentioned serve a purpose."

"That is true, Padawan Ogranger. There have been times when the Jedi Order taught its members to abandon all emotion, to keep themselves completely aloof, to avoid detachments of any sort for fear it would lead them down the dark path. As you can probably imagine, this approach did not work for long. The true Jedi way is not to deny your emotions, but to remain in control of them. Fear can keep you alive in dangerous situations. Anger can give you the strength you might otherwise lack. But a Jedi must never allow themselves to be overwhelmed by their feelings. Use your feelings, but don't allow yourselves to be used by them."

The rest of the class was spent learning the basics of several techniques that, once more developed, would allow a Jedi to heal their own body, control their own vital functions, and use the energies of the Force to boost their own strength, speed, and dexterity.

 _History / Political Sciences_

The Padawans of Sunrider squadron had so far been sharing their classes with the members of the other three squadrons, as the basic skills were the same for all Jedi, no matter what path they might follow in the future. History and political sciences, however, was a different matter. Their first lesson with Jedi Master Binns was spent on a basic quiz to determine the status of each Padawan's existing education in these matters. Unsurprisingly it varied wildly, with Core World Padawans like Hermione needing no catching up at all, while those from the Outer Rim like Harry had but a very general knowledge of the subject so far.

Master Binns explained to them that, once they were all brought up to the same basic level, the H/PS class for the Sunrider squad would focus mainly on the history of the Jedi themselves, the past conflicts with the Sith, and the history and current state of affair in the less civilized areas of space. Draay classes, for example, would instead focus more on Coruscant politics and the history of the Republic, Rajivari classes would have a focus on military history, and Jard classes, finally, would focus less on current and more on ancient history.

All in all Harry didn't like this class much so far, but that was probably because he was quite a bit behind most others present. Given the need to catch up everyone, he was quite certain Hermione would be bored out of her mind very soon. In the chair beside him, Ron was doing his best not to fall asleep.

* * *

 _Noon Meditation_

Harry found it harder to attain a state of calmness during their second round of meditation, probably because his head was still swimming with all the information that had been stuffed into his head these past few hours. Still, guided by the soothing voice of Master Sprout, he did manage to order his mind somewhat and, while not exactly calm and rested, did feel a bit more prepared for whatever the afternoon would bring. Of course having helped himself to a generous lunch might also have something to do with it.

* * *

 _Physical Training_

Harry had kind of hoped that physical training would involve getting their first lessons on the use of a lightsaber, seeing as Ron had explained to him what that was and now he definitely wanted to wield one. Sadly, that was Combat Training, not Physical Training, and would begin at a later date. For now, physical training was just what the name implied: getting the students into shape.

Unlike H/PS, though, Harry was quite a bit ahead of most of the rest of the class here. Having grown up on Tatooine and being used to doing his chores and the oftentimes backbreaking work involved in moisture farming with two suns glaring down on him, he found the training in the air conditioned gym of the Jedi Praxeum to be far from challenging.

It was a bit petty, he mused, but he did kind of enjoy seeing Hermione struggle as they ran laps around the gym. Though she was still in better shape than one of his bunk mates, Nevier Longarus, who was from Coruscant and – judging by his body weight – spent more time riding air cars than walking or running anywhere. Well, Harry figured that regular training sessions would take care of that sooner or later. From what he had seen so far, at least, there were no fat or unfit Jedi.

Harry briefly wondered what an in-shape, fat-free Hutt might look like. Was there such a thing?

* * *

 _Force Studies (Mind Arts)_

While being nowhere near as exhausted as some of his squadron mates, Harry nevertheless looked toward their next class with some anxiety. Not just because 'Mind Arts' sounded somewhat creepy, but also because the teacher, the Dathomirian Jedi called Savarius Sihn, had given him the creeps during the welcome ceremony. Then again, maybe it had just been a bit much yesterday. He would try and keep an open mind for Mind Arts. Chuckling internally, he followed the others into the class room.

Unlike most of the other rooms in the Praxeum he had seen so far, the class room for Mind Arts was rather dark and only dimly lit. Glow orbs were lined along the walls, giving off just enough light to make out the other students, as well as the tables and chairs. A dark shape stood at the head of the class and remained unmoving until everyone had sat down.

The doors slid shut, cutting off the remainder of light from the corridor, and Master Sihn turned around to look at his students. His black robes seemed to melt into the surrounding shadows, while his red eyes positively blazed as his gaze swept over the Padawans.

"Many of you no doubt believe that the epitome of being a Jedi involves waving light sabers around and levitating large things to throw at your enemies. I can already tell you, there will be none of that in my class. Here, we will learn to use the Force in much subtler ways.

"A true master of the Force can cloud the senses of the unwary, influence the minds of the weak-willed, and use but the smallest effort to achieve incredible-looking feats."

Harry blinked, because Sihn had just disappeared into thin air. One moment he had spoken, now he was no longer standing in front of them. No pop, no puff of smoke, he was just gone. Where had he...?

"Like I said," Sihn continued, starting everyone as the voice came from behind them. "it takes but the smallest effort."

Turning around, the wide-eyed students saw him standing near the entrance of the class room, looking as intimidating as ever.

"You are certainly wondering, how did he achieve this? Did he teleport? Has he moved so fast that you could not follow? No, the answer is much, much simpler. I used the Force to cloud your minds for just a few seconds and simply walked back here at a leisurely stroll while you were all staring straight ahead in a light trance. That is the power of the Force, if you know how to apply it correctly."

He walked back to the head of the class room, his hands clasped behind his back. "Now I do not expect any of you to master these talents until you are nearing the time of your trials and even then, many Jedi never really apply themselves to learning more than the basics of these arts. Our goal for this first year of your training is merely to sharpen your senses, to enhance your awareness, so that maybe, possibly, those of you who are not completely useless will, by the end of the year, be able to tell when a Master of the Force is trying to influence or confuse you."

Walking – no, stalking – along the tables, Sihn came to a stop next to Harry and looked at him.

"Ah, Padawan Potter. Our resident celebrity. Tell me, Potter: if I were to employ the technique of Tactus Otium, what would it allow me to do?"

From the corner of his eye Harry saw Hermione hold up her hand, obviously very eager to answer the question. Sihn ignored her, though, simply staring at him.

"I do not know, Master Sihn," Harry replied, as he had no idea.

"It would allow me to sense the flow of the Force in this room, Padawan Potter, including whether someone was using the Force with malicious intent in order to influence someone else. Now, Padawan, apart from Tactus Otium, what are the other three groups of techniques used to enhance your senses?"

Hermione's hand was still up, but Harry was as much at a loss as before, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. Was he supposed to know all this already?

"I do not know, Master Sihn," he repeated.

"Prima Vitae, Tai Vordrax, and Telepathy, Padawan Potter. It seems you would do well to pay close attention in this class. Fame will only get you so far, after all."

With a swirl of his dark robes, Sihn walked on.

"What was that all about?" Ron whispered beside him.

Harry had no idea, but he was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Savarius Sihn would not be his favorite teacher anytime soon.

* * *

 _Evening Meditation_

After two hours of studying the Mind Arts, which seemed to be mostly about showing the Padawans how little they knew and how easily they could be tricked in all sorts of ways, Harry found it almost impossible to calm his mind. Hermione had told him he was imagining things, but Harry had definitely gotten the impression that Sihn had it in for him for some reason. He had constantly made snide remarks about Harry's supposed fame – something Harry wanted no part of anyway – and had constantly asked him question he was pretty sure no one in his year – who was not called Hermione – could answer.

Harry was more than happy when, upon returning to the Sunrider common room after dinner, he found a message from Hagricca on his work station. The Wookie had invited him for a meeting in the hangar area, having promised to tell him more stories about his parents.

"Wow, you know Hagricca?" Ron asked, having read over his shoulder.

"Sure, he's the one who went with Master Ma-Gon Gell to get me from Tatooine. Apparently he was a good friend of my father."

"Cool, mind if I tag along? I mean, if you don't mind."

"No problem, Ron! Come on, let's go meet a Wookie!"

End Chapter 6


End file.
